


wait, wait, wait for me, please hang around

by imadetheline



Series: Breathe In, Breathe Out [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Choking, Father-Son Relationship, FebuWhump2021, Gen, Imprisonment, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:02:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29173854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imadetheline/pseuds/imadetheline
Summary: febuwhump day three - imprisonment
Relationships: Luke Skywalker & Darth Vader
Series: Breathe In, Breathe Out [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2140389
Comments: 28
Kudos: 121
Collections: Luke and Vader Bonding, febuwhump 2021





	wait, wait, wait for me, please hang around

**Author's Note:**

> title from little talks by of monsters and men

Luke’s known since he was young, because of course he has. Ben and his aunt and uncle had agreed it was safer as he’d been so set on training with the Force and eventually joining the Rebellion as indeed he had ended up doing. And Luke suspects Aunt Beru had the most significant hand in making sure he knew because she’d told him, not long before she died, that it would have been cruel to keep it from him, even crueler than sitting him down and letting him know. 

Darth Vader is his father. And above all else, his father can never know.

That had been drilled into Luke’s head after the initial shock and horror had dissipated. His father could never know he had a son. It had chafed at him when he was young, when he’d longed desperately for a father but had been too young to understand that knowing his father would inevitably end in his death.

And now he’s twenty, and his aunt and uncle are buried in shallow graves on Tatooine, Ben cut down by Darth Vader on the Death Star. He misses them, and he can’t replace them, but now he has Leia and Han and Wedge and Rogue Squadron to watch out for. He won’t let them die the way the rest of his family had.

That’s why when he finds out the Rebellion has captured Darth Vader and is going to hold him for information before killing him, he should be happy. Now the man will never be able to hurt the family he’s built for himself, that he would give everything for. And yet…

Vader is being kept deep below their base, in a cell designed to contain Force-sensitives, so Luke cannot sense him. But still, something is tugging him down into the lower levels. And Ben had always taught him to listen to the Force, so he follows it, telling himself it’s just the Force and not his heart that’s pulling him closer and closer to the father he knows he should hate.

<<<>>>

Vader has to admit he had underestimated the Princess, to his own detriment. And now he is forced to wait in the darkness, binders around his wrists connecting to the wall. The darkness is not an issue with his lenses, and the chains will not be a problem for much longer. For while his kidnappers had made sure to account for his strength with the Force, they had not accounted for his skill with mechanics. He’d begun picking the locks as soon as he’d woken up. No, the only thing this has accomplished is fueling his rage. They’ve brought him to their base. He will leave. They will not.

He cannot sense the Force, but already he can feel the rage rushing through his veins and can almost hear the darkness replying, reaching for him. He will enjoy tearing the rebels apart.

The hissing of the door catches his attention, his lenses adjusting to the dim lighting spilling into the cell. He carefully doesn’t shift his position, subtly working on the binders behind his back and giving off the impression he’s still unconscious. 

A boy enters, blonde hair a mess and falling into his eyes, which are light, blue if Vader had to guess, though the red-tinted lenses make it hard. But he seems nervous, hovering in the open doorway for a moment before he sucks in a breath and steps into the cell. The door closes behind him, and Vader misses the Force, misses being able to feel the fear pouring off his enemies like it so obviously is with the boy.

The lights in the cell flicker on, so dim his mask barely has to adjust. Still, Vader does not move, observing his prey as it steps closer. Why had the Rebellion sent a child to do their bidding?

But it does not matter. He will enjoy crushing this boy’s throat, his fear only fueling Vader’s anger.

The binders are almost loose, and Vader’s lips twitch, pulling on the unhealed skin, and he savors the pain, pouring more anger into the swelling storm gathering in his chest. But the boy is still hovering by the door, does not move to yell or try to kill him as Vader had expected. Really, why had he come here and risked death? His foolishness will be his end.

There’s sadness there, on the boy’s face. Vader doesn’t need the Force to tell him that. The boy thinks Vader is unconscious and does not bother to school his expressions; his eyes are bright with grief. Perhaps Vader had killed someone the boy cared for, and he had come here to take revenge. But clearly, he had not had the spine to even try. Pathetic.

Finally, the boy moves. But it is not to the door; no, he steps closer to Vader, meeting his gaze with unerring accuracy. It unsettles Vader, and his rage surges. But then, a whisper in the darkness, “Why are you still here?” It doesn’t sound angry, just sad and almost pleading.

“Indeed,” Vader’s vocoder is loud in the silence, and the boy’s face blanches as he stumbles backward, realizing the dragon is indeed awake, and he’s wandered into its den. But it’s too late. 

The binders fall from Vader’s wrists, and he lunges forward, a gloved hand wrapping firmly around the boy’s throat. His hands come up to scrabble at Vader’s grip, but there’s nothing he can do as he takes in his last heaving breaths of air. They’re still in the cell, still cut off from the Force, but Vader can see the terror in the boy’s eyes as his grip slowly tightens.

“St-stop,” the boy breathes out, but it echoes in the silence. Vader’s grip loosens slightly. He snarls and tightens his grip even more, anger almost spilling out of him. Why had he listened to the boy?

“Please.” Vader’s fingers once again stop squeezing involuntarily. The boy’s breathing is rasping and uneven in the silence as he tries to breathe around the metal digging into his throat. “Please, I-I’m,” Vader cuts him off again after he regains control of his limbs, cursing himself. “I-” the boy sucks in the last bit of air he can, hands clutching Vader’s wrist, and one word is torn from his throat, no more than an exhale: “Skywalker.”

Vader’s grip immediately falters, loosening and almost dropping the boy, who’s gasping, trying to bring air into his starved lungs, but he catches himself at the last moment. He stops himself from killing the boy on instinct at the mention of that name but doesn’t remove his hand, letting it remain threateningly wrapped around the boy’s airways, squeezing but not crushing, as he leans in closer. His mask stops an inch from the boy’s face, respirator making the hair on his forehead flutter. The boy’s hands are still clutched onto Vader’s wrists as his eyes scream with his fear.

“ _ What _ did you say?” Vader hisses, letting his anger slip into the words. The sooner the boy explains how he knows, the quicker Vader can dispose of him, and he knows fear is the best motivator.

Sure enough, the boy tries to swallow, still breathing harshly, but realizes he can’t. His eyes flicker to the door, but there’s no escape. So he looks back to Vader, once again meeting his gaze with those eerily similar blue eyes, and he speaks, “I’m- I’m Luke Skywalker.”

Vader’s world stops, and his grip falters. The boy crashes to the floor with a thump and a groan, rolling towards the wall. Vader’s gaze snaps to him, his brain reeling. Skywalker.  _ Luke Skywalker. _ The blond hair.  _ Luke. _ The eyes.  _ Luke. _ The nose.  _ Her  _ nose. He remembers; if it had been a boy, she’d wanted the name Luke. If it had… If it- No, it was, it is a boy.

How had he not known?! He’s missed so much. The boy- He’s 20 now.  _ How had he not known? _ The boy--No, Luke--is currently pulling himself into a sitting position against the stone wall, trying to catch his breath. The bruises ringing his throat are stark, reds and browns against his pale skin. Vader had done that, had hurt  _ his son. _ Guilt, hatred, rage flood him, almost knocking him to his knees.

Luke’s eyes flicker to him in the darkness, and the fear there tears at Vader’s soul. He takes a shaking step forward, hand outstretched, but Luke flinches, and Vader stops, knowing his son cannot see his expression, cannot sense his intentions in this Force void. He curses the helmet, the mask, the lenses, everything that makes him unable to look on his son with his own eyes. As quiet as the vocoder will go, he asks, “You are-”

Luke cuts him off with a rasping whisper. “Yes,” is all he says.

So he had known. Luke had known and had not tried to find him.  _ Because look what happened when he did! _ a part of him is screaming at him, and he cannot disagree. His son isn’t looking at him, his hands curled around his knees, eyes fixed firmly on the door to the right of him.

“I- I am,” he stutters, the words unusual after so long, but he will say them. “I am sorry, my- my son.” His heart is bleeding, ripping apart in his chest. Luke does not look at him, does not acknowledge he has spoken. Vader takes another step forward, hand clenching at his side. Luke doesn’t flinch this time, but he trembles, and finally, Vader is close enough to see the tears silently tracing a line down his son’s cheeks in the darkness.

“Why?” One word, hoarse and choked as it tumbles from Luke’s mouth, still not looking at him.

Vader freezes, knows if his respirator wasn’t forcing air into his lungs, he would have stopped breathing. And then he’s kneeling, all too familiar a position, but it only feels right that he would kneel before the son he has harmed, far more right than it ever has before his master. His joints protest and tear at his skin, but he ignores it, finally lowering to his son’s eye level. If his son would look at him, that is. “I did not know, my son.”

That gains Luke’s attention, his gaze swinging around to meet Vader’s, and fire has replaced fear in his eyes, “Why do it to  _ anyone _ ?” he hisses, anger clear even though his voice is shaky. He coughs deeply, a hand raising to his throat, brushing lightly against the abused skin, and he winces. Vader wants to reach for him, to pull him into his arms but knows he doesn’t deserve to.

He gives the only answer he can, “I am a Sith.”

“ _ Why? _ ” Luke asks again, pleading, and his voice breaks on the word. But his eyes don’t leave Vader’s, searching, as if they can see through the mask.

And how can Vader possibly answer that? Because he was betrayed, because, he wants to say, because I was trying to save you-- _ and your mother. _ But he doesn’t say it. He had failed to save her, thought he had failed to save Luke too. And the dark side was all he had left after.

_ But Luke had survived _ , his mind is whispering.  _ Your son is here. The dark side is not all you have left. He is here, and the dark side hurt him _ . And he is still a Sith. Why indeed? But he’s not ready to face those thoughts, not yet.

“I- I am sorry.” It’s all he has to give.

Something like disappointment crosses Luke’s face, there and gone.

Vader reaches out a hand again, unable to stop himself. Luke doesn’t flinch this time but eyes him warily. Vader hesitates for a breath, the respirator cycling, and then his gloved hand meets his son’s cheek. He tries to recall being gentle as he brushes away the tears there, and he desperately wishes his prosthetics still had the capacity to feel.

Luke just stares, dazed and blinking at the action, and then his eyes shutter, sucking in as deep a breath as he can manage. He turns into his father’s hand on his cheek, and Vader’s heart stutters in his chest. 

Their breathing is the only thing that fills the silence as they wait, unmoving. Vader savors the moment with his son, knows it is possibly the only one he will ever get. And when Luke’s comm finally beeps, and he opens his eyes, blinking in the dim light, and pulls himself away from his father, the spell broken as he moves to the door, shooting Vader one last unreadable glance before he slips out, Vader doesn’t speak. He doesn’t move to stop him, to escape. He just stays there, grief and acceptance trickling through his veins, and he waits. Perhaps for his son, perhaps for death. He’s not sure of the difference anymore. So he waits.

**Author's Note:**

> If you guys liked it leave a comment. They make my day! Seriously I love reading them so please leave me one cause they motivate me to write more! if you guys have ideas for other stories send me an ask on tumblr [here](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/imadetheline) or just yell about stuff with me. Info about me and all my other tumblrs are [here](https://infoabtmaddie.carrd.co/#)


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